Operation Romance Riza
by ssadropout
Summary: End of FMA:B and manga spoilers. Now that everything is getting back to normal after the battle with Father and his minions, Mustang wants to have a life outside of work. But first, he needs a plan...


**A/N- **This was originally written for LiveJournal fma_fic_contest: Prompt 73, Symbolic/Symbolism.

If FMA were mine, I wouldn't have to borrow the characters and the universe from Hiromu Arakawa. (The line in the story about the vase is a direct quote from the manga.)

(**)(**)(**)

Roy Mustang sat at his desk, trying to appear as if he was working. He had more important things on his mind.

Life was finally going pretty well. His work with Ishval was actually allowing him to realize his naïve early ambition of making a difference by improving lives. He might not be Fuhrer, but the new Fuhrer was working _for_ the people of Amestris, so that was okay. For now, anyway. The problem was that before the Promised Day, he had accepted putting his personal life on hold until he became Fuhrer. Now, things had changed. The battle against Father had demolished his willingness to postpone his private life. Seeing his lieutenant with her throat slit and her blood (her life!) draining away had radically altered his thinking. That and his few days of blindness had brought things into sharp focus. Time was flying. He knew how Riza Hawkeye felt about him, and, after having struggled for years to maintain a professional distance from her, he now wanted to tell her that he had long returned her feelings. They'd never be a _normal _couple, but he was sure that they could find happiness together.

Alchemists, despite being logical and analytical scientists, tended to be romantic. They constantly dealt with representational images. In creating arrays, they used symbols so often that their brains probably got rewired. All those archetypes molded them into fools who liked using flowers, poetry and, music to help them express themselves. Unfortunately for Roy, the object of his affections did not have the typical appreciation for the usual tokens of love. Riza Hawkeye was one-of-a-kind.

_Thank you for the candy, sir. I hope that you don't mind if I give it to Elycia. I'm getting to the age when I should watch what I eat. These desk jobs don't help us keep healthy._

_Yes, I think that that is a nice song, sir, but it would not be appropriate to dance in the office. _

_If that's what the poet meant, why didn't he use _those_ words to express it? What he wrote is ambiguous and confusing._

_About the flowers, sir… I don't own a vase._

She didn't even own a vase! She liked to dance and did it with grace and athleticism, but she had strict ideas about when and where. She couldn't care less about flowers. Well, flowers died. Maybe they weren't such flawless emblems of love.

"Excuse me, sir. Perhaps you should stop staring at that form and read it and sign it."

"Ah, lieutenant. You are absolutely correct. However, in my defense, I was considering a very important issue."

"If it is not work-related, sir, now is not the time."

"Right you are, Hawkeye. Tempus fugit." He picked up his pen and concentrated on the document before him, smiling enigmatically (at least from Hawkeye's point of view.) _It's ironic,_ he thought. _I can please Riza Hawkeye by _not_ thinking about her._

He just couldn't bear the thought of merely going up to her and saying, "I love you Riza, and I want to marry you." He felt that a grand gesture was required, but he also understood that pleasing her was more important than pleasing himself. When she left to pick up their paperwork, he plopped down on the floor next to Black Hayate and scratched the dog's ears. "How do you make her so happy, boy?" Hayate's reply of _arf_ was no help at all.

(**)

Roy lay on his sofa, staring at a crack in the ceiling and listening to a soprano sing a melodious aria on the victrola. The crack resembled an arrow. It seemed like it should mean something. _Cupid's arrow. Compass arrow._ _Nothing_. He was still at a loss for a plan. He had names: Operation Hook Hawkeye, Hypnotize Hawkeye, Lure the Lieutenant, Rope Riza. He had great names for his project. Now if only he could think of a place or a deed or an object that was special enough to accompany his declaration of love. He'd known her longer than anyone except for his aunt and her crowd. He had a keen knowledge of what Riza didn't like. How could he not know what she _did_ like?

(**)

"Checkmate! I don't think that I have ever beaten you in merely six moves before, even when we first started playing each other. Have you got something on your mind, son?" Fuhrer Grumman asked. When there was no response from Mustang, Grumman teased, "Is my granddaughter giving you a hard time?" Roy's head snapped up, and his usually controlled features were an almost comic mask of consternation.

"Oh! I see. Ha ha." Grumman smirked. "You're on your own in that department, young man."

(**)

On the train back to East City, alone with her in the compartment, he thought about testing the waters. Instead he read the files that Grumman had given him, pausing only to… _He leaned across the space between them and took the book out of her hand. After carefully marking her place and putting the book down, he pulled her over to him and set her on his lap. His hand caressed her cheek, and she mirrored his action before leaning in to touch her lips to his. Eyes closed, lips open… _determine if there was a relationship between the arsons in Central and in East City.

(**)

He'd really kept his nose to the grindstone since returning East. All to please her. _I've got nothing!_ he thought, _but_ _here goes…_

"Lieutenant, I think that I have come up with a revolutionary plan that will allow you to protect me better."

"What would that be, sir?" She hadn't noticed him make his way over to her desk.

"Don't you think it would be helpful if you and Hayate could keep an eye on me outside of work, too?" He'd knelt, close, situating his eyes on a level with hers.

She turned into his gaze. "I _would_ hate to see anything bad happen to you, sir."

(**)(**)(**)

**A/N-** Now how do you think that Riza spoke that last line? Was she sweet? Ironic? Threatening? Poor Roy! I hope that you were amused. Thanks for reading. Pretty please review. Take care.


End file.
